


The Minsistry of Love

by Uglywordsinaknifeblock



Category: 1984 - George Orwell
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internal Monologue, Internalized Hate, Ministry of love, Prison, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 23:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12330783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uglywordsinaknifeblock/pseuds/Uglywordsinaknifeblock
Summary: I am here again. The place where there is no darkness. The Ministry of Love.





	The Minsistry of Love

**Author's Note:**

> An extra scene I added almost immediately following the last scene of the book.

I am here again. The place where there is no darkness. The Ministry of Love. I know what is going to happen to me, and I feel nothing but grateful. I thank them at every chance I get for curing me of my hate, my senseless hostility. I am pure, I am forgiven, I am whole. I love Big Brother as I always should have. And now they will absolve me once and for all, put a bullet through my brain before it can become marred anew, wicked and riddled with rot once again.

 

They will not keep me long this time, only dispose of me while I am clean and untainted. My voluminous body does not fit on the steel benches as it once did, when I was gaunt and emaciated. No matter. I cannot feel any pain or discomfort now; Big Brother holds me to him, and I am saved from all that plagues me. In accepting his love, I am ameliorated.

 

I can see them now. They have come to the door, the only spot of colour against the white tiles of my cell. They have the gun, and I nearly cry with joy. O Big Brother, your mercy knows no boundary! Save me now, lest I become wretched and unworthy once more! The barrel of the gun is the sweetest sight I have yet to see in my senselessly wasted life. I face them now. I am prepared to embrace the gentle arms of my saviour in the bullet destined for my brow. I love Big Brother.

 

In my last seconds, I see the gun being cocked. I look up at the man, his steel blues eyes so kind in their clemency. I am on my knees with my arms open, palms towards him, ready for the death I so crave. And in the wholehearted ardor filling me, I feel something else. A promise I made to myself long ago, so long ago I cannot even remember it. But it was not long ago, it could not have been, for it was just before… before they said they cured me. Before they convinced me I was insane and strapped me down and told me that two and two make five because they said so. My hands start to shake.

 

I remember it now. The rage I feel… the pure, unadulterated hatred: that was the promise. I remember balling it all up, forcing myself to forget it and then forget forgetting it, only for it to explode in my last moments. I remember what I said to myself:

 

_“To die hating them, that is freedom.”_

 

I feel it now, the loathing I kept locked inside myself for months while I convinced myself I loved them. It consumes me, and I know I am free. I won. Two and two make four.

 

I see his trigger finger begin to flex, and I know I have only seconds to let them know they failed. With the first genuine smile I have enjoyed in years past, I speak:

  
“Down with Big Brother”


End file.
